Harry Potter and Harry Potter
by dark dhampir
Summary: UNDER REVISION! During the Battle of the Ministry, Harry gets some unusual help as a strange new adventure begins.  Wizards, gunslingers, and a multiverse! WARNING: Harryxharem/multi.  Femslash. Anti-Ron and Dumbledore. Sorry if you loved the old version.
1. Chapter 0: The Door and the Steed

_**HARRY POTTER AND HARRY POTTER**_

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, The Dark Tower Saga, or the Stargate franchise. If I did, they would all be very different.

IMPORTANT WARNING: This story contains swearing, violence, character death, potential drug use (don't know for sure yet), non-graphic sex (male/female, female/female, male/female-and-female/female-simultaneously, bondage, and S/M), complicated ideas, and examples of pure evil. I can't stick lemons in here because of the site's rules, but I'm planning to publish a more complete version of this story on hpfanarchive, where graphic sex is aloud. There won't be any for the first few chapters, however. If any of this offends you, stop reading now.

This story is inspired by numerous Harry/harem stories, particularly Radaslab's The Harem War, which was itself based off the slave/harem challenge set by Ranger Dragan, although I went for a soul-bond theme instead of a slave story. My hat's off to RD for coming up with such a challenge and even more so for Radaslab for writing such an awesome story. His concept of a coven and magical bonds reminded me of Stephen King's concept of a ka-tet, and everything just took off from there. If anyone wants the rules to Ranger Dragan's challenge, either read the first chapter of Radaslab's THW, or go to the author's notes at the end of my story.

This takes place near the end of Order of the Phoenix. IMPORTANT! All World is different in my story from the one/ones in Stephen King's stories. Instead of post-apocalyptic American West, my All World (or what we see of it, at least) is a steampunk-styled world. I just borrowed a lot of Mr. King's ideas and a few from Stargate. I would also like to say before anyone gets confused and starts hating me Roland and his friends don't show up! I confused someone earlier on and got a nasty review, so now I'm just saying that this is not so much a crossover as it is a borrowing of ideas.

**PROLOUGE: THE DOOR AND THE STEED**

**PROLOUGE: THE DOOR AND THE STEED**

**ALL WORLD:**

The door was made of ghostwood and had four words written on it in the Great Letters, THE BOY WHO LIVED. The knocker and the knob were both either gold or gold-plated. The hinges were ordinary.

_The Boy-Who-Lived . . . of course,_ the gunslinger thought. _I should have suspected as much. _He was not shocked by the title, though he still gave it a wry look, similar to how one might look at scorch marks.

One of his companions smiled. "It is rather ironically appropriate." She knew of his chagrin, such was the bond they shared, the bond that was ka-an-tet.

Her words comforted him somewhat. That was good, because what he did next would not be easy. When he went through that door, he could very well find himself in a place where people walked upon the clouds and drank molten stone instead of water. Worse, he would be alone. How long had it been since he had last isolated himself or been alone?

The gunslinger turned back to his twelve most fervent allies. For a brief moment, he considered saying farewell, but he quickly crushed the impulse. The days when he would have said that had long past. "I shall return," he said, with fierce determination. Then, he stretched out his hand to the knob.

The gunslinger opened the door and went through.

**EN ROUTE FROM HOGWARTS TO THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC:**

Harry Potter was not happy as he flew to England on the back of a thestral, a skeletal-looking winged horse which could only be seen by those who had seen death. Unfortunately, Harry had witnessed the murder of Cedric Diggory the year before, so he could see the creatures. Despite their demonic appearance, however, they were benevolent and highly intelligent animals who wouldn't hurt anyone unprovoked.

Still, riding them was a literal pain. Their boney backs and ribs dug into the rider's crotch and inner thighs when the thestral stood still. When it was moving, Harry could actually feel its muscles and bones working. On the back of a hippogriff, which had meat and fur and feathers, this sensation was moderately unpleasant, but on the threstral, Harry was afraid that he would lose sensitive parts of his body if he leaned to far forward. And he had not even gotten to really use them yet.

But he had no choice. Harry was riding one of these creatures in order to travel from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Scotland to the Ministry of Magic in London so that he could rescue his godfather, Sirius Black. The man was currently at the mercy of Harry's archenemy, Lord Voldemort, and Voldemor was merciless; he had tried to murder Harry when the young wizard was only a baby. Undoubtedly, the sadistic bastard was torturing Sirius at that very moment. Every second counted.

It may have been because of his concerned for Sirius that Harry did not immediately notice that his was no longer the only consciousness in his brain. He did notice, however, when a voice spoke within his thoughts.

_I did it. I've crossed over . . . into his _mind. This strange statement caught Harry's attention but not as much as when the alien voice shouted _He knows I'm here!_

_

* * *

_

The gunslinger retreated deep into Harry's mind, almost leaving completely. That had been close. It would not do for Harry to be aware of his existence just yet, especially while the boy was flying fifty or sixty feet in the air on the back of a thestral.

The gunslinger steadied himself for a moment, then began to go into the mind of the Boy-Who-Lived, not forward, but deeper. The fact that the boy was riding a thestral was suggestive, and he was anxious to discover if it meant what he thought it meant. It did not take long to find the information he sought.

The gunslinger was aware that time moved differently in different worlds, and that ghostwood doors could easily transcend times, just as they transcended realities. Thus, although it was the year two thousand and nineteen in his own world, it was only the year of the one thousand, nine hundred and ninety-five in this this, but that was not what mattered.

What mattered was the event. The gunslinger knew what was happening. Voldemort had discovered Harry's ability to see into his mind and had constructed a trap for the boy. The vision of Sirius was a lie. Voldemort wanted Harry to go the Ministry to find a prophecy about the two of them, a prophecy which contained clues as to why Harry was such a danger to the Dark Lord. Ironically, Sirius was killed trying to rescue Harry from Voldemort's servants, the vile _ka-tet_ known as the Death Eaters. And it was none other than Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius' own deranged cousin, who had cast the killing curse. Thinking of Sirius Black's death brought up an even more terrible and more recent memory in the gunslinger's mind.

Now, it seemed, the gunslinger had a chance to stop this sad chain of events from occurring, at least in this world. Though the chances of it happening were mind-boggling, the gunslinger did not to question them. _Ka_ was a wheel whose one purpose was turn, and, in the end, it always brought a man back to the place from which he started. Besides which,_ ka_ had always seemed to have a fondness for doing unfathomable things to him.

But the gunslinger could not act now. When the time came, he would have one chance and one chance only. There were many unknowns in this situation. He could tell from a glance that the world he was in was very different from his own. Aside from that, there were other things and other people to consider. Changing this drama's outcome was not why he had come to this world. He could not afford to forget that, or all would be lost.

So, the gunslinger waited, and he watched.

*********************************************************************Author's Notes*****************************************************************************

!. I hereby extend a sincere appology to those who loved the story in its original format and now have to wait for me to change things. Sorry, but after some less positive reviews, I took a look back through what I had already written and found I had made some pretty embarrassing mistakes. I was also annoyed from the start with the length of the chapters (or rather the lack thereof). So, now I'm going to rewrite the first five chapters before I do start adding new material. Again, I'm sorry lovers of the original, but I hope you'll come to love the newer and (hopefully) better version.

Yeesh! Now I know how Stephen King felt when he started revising the first four Dark Tower books.

II. The Rules to Ranger Dragan's Slave/Harem Challenge (Warning, this is spoilers to the story):

1. Harry must accept/take on multiple slaves

a. These must all be female slaves

b. There must be two or more girls from each House at Hogwarts in the harem.

c. Harry may be brutal to his girls, but he does not neccessarily have to be.

2. This must be all Sirius' fault.

3. Dumbledore's a bad guy.

a. Dumbledore has been cheating Harry out of his inheritance and keeping secrets from him.

b. The old man is evil.

4. The Weasley's must be bashed.

a. Not all of the Weasleys need to be evil or stupid, but at least some should be.

b. It is almost a Harry/multi requirement that Ron be one of the bashed.

5. Harry has his own island.

a. He inherited this island.

b. This island is located somewhere in the Atlantic, presumeably to be close to Britain.

III. I got to say, when you consider the idea of Dumbledore being evil, the books get a whole new outlook, and some things make more sense (Ex: Why didn't the old man realize that his old friend Moody was Barty Crouch Jr. in disguise? Either he's evil, or he's stupid). Also, I agree with Radaslab on something. Harry can kick the bad guy's butts, but he shouldn't mess with his allies. A gray/dark Harry is all well and good, but he's not a sicko like Voldemort. BE WARNED, however, this does not mean that some of Harry's girls won't be into rough sex or bondage. That's not brutality, that's the girls' own tastes.

One last thing. It's Harry's twinner in All World that feels the full force of these rules. The Harry we all know and love doesn't get it that bad because some things are different in his world and because the gunslinger and company step in. If I get enough incetive or inspiration, however, I will write a prelude that will chronicle All World's Harry and his adventures. That story's much less developed, hwoever, so no promises.


	2. Chapter 1: Trap and DoubleTrap

**TRAP AND DOUBLE TRAP**

**THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC:**

Harry entered the Ministry with five of his friends, perhaps his only five friends left at school. The Boy-Who-Lived had grown unpopular as of late. Nobody wanted to believe him when he tried to tell them that Voldemort had returned. Most people believed that Harry was either a liar or lunatic and kept their distance from him. These five were the only ones who had not abandoned him and who actually believed that the most evil wizard of all time had actually returned.

Harry would have naturally preferred for them to have strayed behind at the castle, but they wouldn't hear of it. If he was going; they were going, no argument. And so, the motely group had set out. With Harry were Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley, and Luna Lovegood.

Ron, like everyone else in his family, was red haired and freckled. The Weasleys were one of the few pureblood families that didn't care about blood purity. Harry and Ron had been friends since they met on the train at the onset of their first year. The pair had gotten into an almost suicidal amount of trouble over the years.

By contrast, was muggleborn, the first person in her family to be able to do magic. She and Ron were his best friends, although Ron had hated her at first. The pair still often argued; Hermione's militant work ethic clashing with Ron's avoid-work-at-all-costs attitude. There were a lot of people in Gryffindor who thought the pair secretly had a crush on each other but were either too proud or too dense to realize it. Hanging out with the pair had caused the witch to develop her own inner rule breaker.

Neville was the last of the group to be in Harry's year. For the better part of five years, Neville's abilities had been considered a joke. Herbology was the only subject he had any aptitude for, and he still had troubles in it. Harry had never checked, but he thought it was a toss-up between which of them had the record for the highest number of visits to the hospital wing. As he'd spent the past months studying with Harry, however, Neville had shown unbelievable improvement, and, if Harry was honest with himself, he was glad to have the other boy with him.

Ginny was Ron's younger sister. When Harry had first met her, she had had a highly annoying crush on him that had made his already difficult second year even worse. After Harry had saved her life at the end of the year, she had stopped stalking him. Over the past year, they had grown close as friends. While Ron was only a moderately good student, Ginny was clever and, like Neville, had developed into a talented duelist.

Luna was in Ginny's year, but was the only non-Gryffindor in the group. Instead, she was a Ravenclaw. Luna was probably the one Harry had most easily connected to out of everyone. While Neville was thought of as the worst wizard in the school, he was totally accepted by his fellow Gryffindors. Luna, perhaps the most eccentric girl in the entire school, was treated by her everyone else as some sort of strange creature at best and as a madwoman at worst. Harry, who had never really fit into the mainstream student body and who had been more or less ostracized since the start of the year, knew what it was like for her. He had also discovered the kind and insightful person who was buried beneath the stories of fantastic creatures and girls other quirks (like reading magazines upside down).

The diverse group began to search the Ministry for Sirius, but they were essentially trying to find a needle in a haystack. While they were certain the man was in the Department of Mysteries, that only changed the haystack into a pile of hay, a large pile. Harry was getting more and more worried. Sirius could have already been killed, or tortured into a coma like Neville's parent's had been, or Merlin knew what. Harry could not stand that thought. Sirius had been his father's best friend and was more or less the only paternal figure in Harry's life. The young wizard simply could not lose him.

Then, there was that voice. Harry was used to hearing voices that other people did not. In most people, this was a sign of insanity. In Harry Potter, it was a sign of just how messed up his whole life was. In his second year, he had heard the voice of a basilisk (an enormous snake monster) muttering about it wanted to kill people from within the plumbing. Ever since last summer, he had begun having terrible dreams that seemed to be inspired by Voldemort. One of those dreams had already saved Arthur Weasley (Ron and Ginny's father) from an earlier attack on the Ministry, and earlier that night, another dream had warned him of Voldemort's attack on Sirius.

This voice was different from the other two. It did not have the serpentine quality of Parsletongue, the language of snakes, and it was certainly not Voldemort's voice. Not only did it lack the harshness of the snake-like maniac, this voice had awe and fear in it, and these were things Voldemort never showed to anyone, if he even felt them. Comparatively, this voice was much more pleasantly human.

Harry had not told the others about it, because it would only create problems. It would make the others worry about him, wasting time and putting them off their guards. They had more important concerns at the moment. Later, perhaps, Harry would bring it up. Now was not the time.

The gunslinger, meanwhile, was looking out for his own concerns. He made one quick trip back to his own world to plot with his companions. They had been as amazed at the time of his arrival as he had been, but they had gotten over it to help him forge a plan. The result was not complicated, and it involved a number of risks. Still, they did not have the luxury of a long discussion, so it would have to do. When the gunslinger returned, he prepared himself for what he knew had to come next. He would make contact with the Boy-Who-Lived.

_Hile, Harry Potter._

Harry, upon hearing the voice, froze in his tracks.

"Harry," Hermione asked. "What's wrong? Why are did you stop?" The others turned to look at him with concern.

_This is it, _Harry thought. _I'll have to tell them that I'm hearing voices, again. Then I'll have to convince them to keep looking for Sirius and that I'm not crazy. Then again, maybe I am. _He opened his mouth. . .

Then, immediately re-shut it as the voice began shouting again. "_No, you fool, no! I do not have time for this! _We _do not have time! There is a plot afoot, and if you would protect those you hold dear, you would do well to listen to me!"_

Harry winced at the voice; it sounded as though a man was shouting into his ears. _"Who are you?" _he mentally questioned the presence in his mind.

The young wizard heard the voice cry "_He believes me! Thank God, he believes me!"_

Then the mysterious speaker began to address Harry again. _"Listen, Harry Potter, do not tell your friends of me. You couldn't make them believe in me, and we don't have the time. Just say you thought you saw something and start walking again. Hurry!"_

"_Who are you"? _Harry insisted.

The next discourse was more urgent. _"I'm your friend. You need know nothing more of me for the time being. Now, do as I say and pay attention to what I tell you."_

"I thought I saw something," Harry said, deliberately avoiding eye contact with his friends. "It was nothing.

"Okay," Ron said, accepting it easily enough. The others weren't so easy to fool.

"Are you sure, Harry?" Hermione asked, her voice laced with concern.

"You winced, Harry," Luna said. "That's a sign that wrackspurts are getting into your head." Ron snorted and rolled his eyes, prompting his sister to swat him on the shoulder. It was a gentle swat, though. Wrackspurts were creatures Luna believed in that no one else did. She said they invaded people's minds and messed with their brains.

"I'm fine," Harry lied, hating the deception. He started walking. "C'mon, let's get moving. Sirius needs us."

The others followed, though not as comfortable as they were before, which was saying something. Remember that they were a half-dozen underage wizards and witches illegally waltzing around the most important building in magical Britain. They were doing this to rescue a grown and fully trained wizard from an unknown number of the foulest sorcerers alive.

Hermione was particularly worried. She had seen something. She wasn't sure if any of the others had; Ron probably had not. Harry may not have even noticed it himself, but his head had bent to one side while he was considering how to answer her, almost as if he had been listening to something.

_And didn't it take him a while to decide that there wasn't anything to see? _She thought so. And then there was that wince. Hermione didn't believe in wrackspurts, but Harry _had_ avoided the issue rather than answer it. There was something, she did not know what, Harry was not telling them. It hurt and frightened her. But Harry was right. They need to concentrate on Sirius, for now. She would confront her friend later. That did not mean, however, that she would not keep a half eye on him for the moment.

"_I hope you're happy," _Harry told the voice. "_I've lied to my friends, satisfied?"_

"_It's not the first time you have done so", _the voice answered, calmly. For a moment, Harry wanted to rave at the git in his mind, but then the speaker added. _"But do not believe that I think nothing of this deception. It is necessary, but I cry your pardon, wizard."_

Harry did not know how to react. The other mind in his head just kept getting stranger and stranger. "I cry your pardon?" Stranger still, the voice sounded genuinely remorseful. Could he trust it? Harry decided to reserve judgment for the moment. "_What are you so desperate to talk about"?_

"_You are all in danger. I have a plan, but will not be easy."_

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "_Of course, it won't. You probably don't know much about my life, but I'm always in danger, and getting out is never easy. Now tell me what this danger is and what your plan is."_

"_I will, but, I warn you, you will not like it."_

The voice told him. Harry did not like it.

The gunslinger knew that Harry would dislike the plan. He did not like it himself; the plan was incredibly risky. It was not that their stratagem (if one was generous enough to call it such a fine name) was a roughly planned affair, for the gunslinger (and a number of his companions, come to that) had always been gifted with improvisation. There were those who said the gunslinger acted best when he thought least. No, the plan was risky because it relied heavily on chance. Both the gunslinger and the wizard had relied on _ka _to come to their aid in the past. It was just a matter of time until _ka _stopped being so obliging, and the longer the wait, the greater the weight, as some thinkers said.

It could not be helped, however. The Hall of Prophecy drew nigh and with it came the moment to act. As soon as the sneaking group was safely within the room of the glowing spheres, the gunslinger spoke a single word: "_Now!"_

Harry stopped abruptly. "Get your wands ready," he whispered. Ron was about to protest, but Harry whispered _"Now!" _His friends did so; then, Harry spun around and pointed his own toward the shadows behind him. "Show yourselves!"

Immediately a group of Death Eaters appeared: Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, and ten others. Malfoy was in front, signifying that he was in charge of the group. He did not look particularly happy.

"Well done, Potter. I suppose we shouldn't have expected anything less from the Boy-Who-Lived." The man had pale skin and long, platinum blonde hair. He looked like an older version of his son, Draco, but was ever worse that the arrogant little git.

"Hello, there, little Nevilles," Bellatrix trilled. Fourteen years in Azkaban had not been easy on her. The woman's skin was paler than Malfoy's, and she had dark circles under her eyes and wild hair. She still looked attractive, in a dangerous, insane sort of way, but she was evil to her very core. "How are Mummy and Daddy doing?"

Neville glowered at her. "They're doing well," he answered, his voice stern. Harry understood his anger. Bellatrix and some of her Death Eater friends had tortured Neville's parents into a coma fourteen years ago.

"Now, now, Bella," Lucius interrupted, mock compassion in his voice. "We aren't here to discuss the past. We're here to discuss the future."

"You want a prophecy," Harry said. It was not a question.

Malfoy smiled a little. "Clever, boy, very clever. Yes, we do want a prophecy, and you're going to get it for us."

"Harry's not going to help you!" Ginny declared. She aimed her wand at Malfoy. Suddenly, there was a burst of magic, and Harry and all his friends were unarmed. Six of the Death Eaters were now holding the students' wands. Malfoy himself was twirling Harry's between his hands.

"Oh yes, Harry _is _going to help us," Malfoy said, his smile widening. "Unless, of course, he wants to watch his friends die one by one. Who do you think should the first, Bella? Weasley's little princess or the mudblood?" The sadistic woman actually looked at the two intently, trying to judge which of the two she wanted to see dead first.

"_All right!" _Harry growled, before Bellatrix could answer. "I'll get your prophecy."

Malfoy was beaming now. "Wise move, Potter." Harry looked at that smile and wanted to punch it with all his might. To his pleasant surprise, his mind's mysterious tenant wanted to do the same.

_Maybe we can be friends after all, _Harry thought. He turned and began to walk forward into the Hall.

Hermione grabbed him by the arm. "Harry, you _can't! _If you help them-"

Harry cut her off. "I don't have a choice, Hermione."

"He's right," Malfoy stated arrogantly. "He _doesn't._"

Hermione's eyes flicked from Harry, to Malfoy, and back again. Her hand tightened around his arm while her mind groped for an idea, any idea. Then, she felt Luna touch her free hand. Her eyes moved to the other girl.

The blond gave a small smile and winked. _"Don't worry," _that look said, _"it'll be all right."_

Hermione sighed and let go of Harry. Who would have ever thought she'd listen to Looney Lovegood's advice?

Although she did not know it, Harry had seen the look that passed between the two girls. He was glad Hermione had let go of his arm, but he was interested at how Luna had convinced her to do so without saying a single word. It fascinated him, but he didn't have time to stop and think about it.

The gunslinger saw it, too, but he understood. It was a part of _ka-an-tet. _This would merit exploring in the future, but first, he had to insure there was a future.

"Wait just a minute, Potter," Malfoy said as Harry began again to walk into Hall. "Maybe one or two of us should go with you. We wouldn't want you to get lost, now would we?"

_He thinks I'm going to try to run away, _Harry angrily thought, as two wizards who were probably Crabbe and Goyle's fathers started to follow him._ He thinks I'm cowardly enough to leave my friends behind._

"_I wont," _the voice said, which Harry took to mean, "I suppose so"_. "Cowards often assume cowardice in others. Or, mayhap he thinks you'll try to destroy the prophecy. Mayhap there's even a small part of him that suspects you could lay a trap for him and his friends."_

Harry smiled grimly. "_He should pay more attention to that part."_

The gunslinger's trap was about to spring.


	3. Chapter 2: Duel and Shootout

**DUEL AND SHOOTOUT**

Harry and his guards walked past numerous shelves, each containing rows and rows of glowing orbs. Each orb contained a prophecy, a foreshadowing of events to come, or at least, _might_ come. Prophecies were tricky things; free will constantly threw monkey wrenches into the works. It was best to take every prophecy with a grain of salt. At least, that was what the other told Harry.

The young wizard was currently leading the fathers of two of Harry's least favorite Slytherins to a prophecy concerning himself and Voldemort. Harry, of course, had the other to guide him. It was, he supposed, good that Malfoy had chosen to send the goons with him. Another pair might have been suspicious of how he knew exactly where to go.

_When the time comes, _the voice warned him, _we'll have to move fast or we'll all find ourselves in hot oust. _Harry guessed this meant that, if they didn't move like lightening, their goose was cooked.

_Obviously, _the wizard thought.

The group finally stopped and went towards a shelf in the back half of the Hall. Sure enough the prophecy was there, the names "Harry Potter and the Dark Lord" written on a little plaque below it.

Harry stared at it for a moment. This was it. All the answers he had ever wanted were in this beautiful, blue orb: why Voldemort had tried to kill him fourteen years ago, why he kept trying so hard, why-

"Grab it," Crabbe said, shoving his wand hard into Harry's back.

"_It is time," _the other said. Harry agreed. It was time. Taking a deep breathe, Harry surrendered . . .

Crabbe and Goyle could barely cast spells with their wands and voices. Wandless and silent spells were impossible for them. Needless to say, therefore, they were quite surprised when a fifth year turned and disarmed them with nothing more than a wave of his hand. Before they had time to figure out how to react to this new development, the same fifth year hit them both with a wandless, silent spell that knocked them both out.

The gunslinger quickly grabbed the bodies of the two behemoths before the crashed to floor. Harry's muscles stained with effort, but the gunslinger was able to silently place the two on the floor. No need to clue Malfoy in to about what was about to happen to him.

The gunslinger would have rather not used magic on these two, but he was not sure how good Harry's body would be in a brawl. Actually, he was not sure Harry's untrained body could cast the spells; magic without the aid of spoken words or a wand was highly difficult. If the spells had failed, then he and the young wizard would have needed to move fast to even the playing field. Speaking of which . . .

_You know what you have to do, _he said as he retreated into Harry's mind.

_I do, _Harry affirmed. He saw it, right behind Crabbe and Goyle, a doorway to another world. He had first seen it when he had turned around to face the Death Eaters. The door had invisibly followed him as he led the pair to the prophecy. There were people on the other side, gathered around the body of a man.

_It's your body, isn't it? _Harry knew the answer even as he asked. The young wizard grabbed the wands of the unconscious Death Eaters off the floor. As an afterthought, he took the prophecy off the shelf. By Harry's thinking, it was half his anyway. Then, knowing that he was entrusting his friends' lives, as well as his own, to a group of complete strangers, Harry walked over the slumbering Crabbe and Goyle and into the world of the gunslinger.

Harry knew from experience that travel by portkey felt like being yanked by a hook in one's navel, and Apparition (he had been told) felt like being squeezed through a rubber pipe. He didn't feel a thing when he went through the door, not even dizzy. He just walked from one world into another.

* * *

**ALL WORLD:**

The young wizard got his first real shock when he actually crossed worlds. It was not the place, which looked like a big field. It was the people. Except for the man (the other) who was rising to his feet, all of them were women. Their clothes were strange, yet somehow familiar. It was their faces, however, that grabbed Harry's attention.

"You, you're all . . ." It was too bizarre, too unbelievable to be put into words.

"We are indeed," one of the women, a blonde, said, "and yet we are not. But that's not important right now."

"Right," the man said. "Saving your friends is what's important." It was then, looking at him full in the face, that Harry realized what he should have, perhaps, realized earlier.

He looked at Harry for a moment, then, smiled grimly. "Are you ready?"

Swallowing his bewilderment, Harry answered calmly. "How do we do this?"

A brunette answered. "You two will grab each other, then we'll all grab onto you or each other. "I'm not completely sure if this will work, but it should get at least the two of you through."

Accordingly, Harry and the gunslinger grabbed each other's elbows. This accomplished, half the women grabbed him, and the rest grabbed the man. Before they began walking, however, Harry had to ask one last question. "You promise that you'll explain all this to me later, right?"

The gunslinger nodded. "That was our agreement. We'll hold palaver when the time comes. It is necessary."

Then, in an awkward motion, that involved half the group walking backwards. They all crossed back into Harry's world.

* * *

**THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC:**

Lucius Malfoy was having a wonderful evening. The Dark Lord would indeed be pleased with him when he delivered Potter and the prophecy to him . . . and with the five corpses of Potter's friends, to boot. His past mistake with the diary, which for some reason still irked his master, would be forgiven and forgotten. It had been a surprise when the boy had seen through his and the others' Disillusionment charms. No matter, there would be time enough to "question" the boy later. In the meantime, the other children's faces were keeping him entertained.

The group in question mostly bore looks of grim determination. Hermione and Neville were both horrified that Harry would actually do what the Death Eaters wanted. Ginny secretly hoped Harry would come up with a plan to save them all. Luna, by contrast, believed that Harry already had a plan and was only waiting for the chance to spring into action. Ron was simply angry.

Malfoy, of course, understood exactly what two of the girls and the Longbottom boy were thinking. The blonde, his son had informed him, was either stupid or insane, or both. The Weasley boy, he supposed, was the only one who understood exactly how doomed they all were. _Imagine that, _he thought, _an intelligent Weasley. _He would enjoy explaining the situation to the other four. He would enjoy it _immensely._

It was at that point that the situation began to change drastically, where (to Malfoy) it began to go horribly wrong. Powerful spells flew from Malfoy's right, disarming all ten Death Eaters and knocking them down. It took the blonde man a moment to get untangled from the others and get his bearings again. He looked to see who had ambushed them.

Although he did not know it, the children had seen the spells as well and were now wondering who had fired them. The best assumption was that it had been Ministry security. When the attackers approached the fallen villains, they realized the newcomers were definitely not on the Ministry's payroll.

Harry was one of them, holding a new wand in his hand (his own, formerly in Malfoy's possession, now lay on the floor with the others). Beside him stood twelve women, all of whom were pointing wands at the Death Eaters. Some were even pointing revolvers at them, even though every wizard in the known world looked down on firearms (assuming they even knew what such things were). All were wearing jeans, long dusters, vests over their plain shirts, and wide brimmed hats that veiled their eyes in shadow. Belts of bullets crossed the hips of the ones holding guns. Hermione, due to her Muggle background was the only one who had anyone to compare these people to. They looked like desperados from the American Old West, gunslingers.

Aside from Harry, one other man stood among the women. He was taller than Harry, with equally dark hair. He wore gun belts, but held nothing in his left hand. Unlike the others, his wand was held at his side instead of at the Death Eaters, yet his stance in the group, front and center, suggested he was their leader. Harry stood beside him.

"Hile, Malfoy," the unknown man said evenly. Then, there was a streak of blue lightning by his left side, a crash of thunder, and one of the Death Eaters was clutching his hand in pain, the wand he had silently called to it was broken in two.

"Next person to try something will lose more than just a wand, understand?" the man asked. His left hand now held a smoking gun, larger than the ones the women carried. He had drawn and fired it faster than the eye could follow.

Harry left the speaker's side to go to his friends. "Are you all okay?" he asked, handing Hermione the other wand.

"Yes," she answered, as she accepted the wand. "We're all all right."

"Harry," Ron asked, "who are these bloody sods?"

Harry looked back at the mysterious group for a moment, before answering. "They're friends, I think."

"Very good friends, apparently," Luna noted with approval. Ron just grunted. Harry supposed he was cross at not being given a wand, although Harry would have chosen to rearm Hermione even if there had only been one wand.

Lucius struggled from his rear to his knees. "Stay where you are, Malfoy," the man warned, thumbing back the gun's hammer, "unless you want me to put some holes in you. I would be very happy to do so, if that is your wish." The words were pleasant, but there was a cold edge in his voice. No one who heard it could believe he was lying.

The six students looked at each other. Where these people really friends, or just more psychopaths?

One of the women spoke, one with blood red hair. "He's got something in his hand. Hand it over, Malfoy." Her wand glowed menacingly. Next to the cocked gun, it was an intimidating sight.

Malfoy glowered at her. "Of course, my dear." He held up the object, a glass orb filled with red smoke, like a Remembrall. Then he dropped it.

_"Move!" _the gunslinger cried. The orb exploded on contact with the floor, instantly releasing an enormous cloud of smoke. Instantly, the gunslinger and his team ran toward the six wizards, herding the students away from the fog. They acted as one, with synchronization in their movement that seemed magical. Some tried to Banish the smoke, but found they couldn't. They positioned themselves and the wizards behind one of the shelves.

Not a moment too soon, as curses began exploding against the shelf. The Death Eaters had apparently grabbed their wands were launching a counterattack. The smoke remained, so they must have possessed some means of locating them through it.

The gunslingers knew what they were doing, however. They easily parried and blocked the curses, then fired back with their wands and guns. While the gunslingers couldn't see where their enemies were hiding, they aimed for where the attacks came from. This was difficult given that the smoke how far the smoke had spread, but, judging by the yelps and screams coming from the other side of the smokescreen, the tactic appeared to be working.

Not everyone's shot was being parried or blocked by the shelf, however. Some were hitting prophecies, releasing wailing phantoms. There were too many speaking at once to make out what they were all saying. Even so, Harry heard footsteps behind him and a shrill laugh. Without thinking, he pivoted and shouted _"Expelliarmus!" _

Bellatrix Lestrange was knocked back. There was the sound of dry wood snapping, probably her wand. Before the insane witch could do anything, Neville charged. He no longer had a wand, and he was unable to see through the thick smoke, but he rushed at her anyway. The Longbottom scion swung his fists while running after Harry's spell. One of his punches collided with the woman's nose causing the back of her head to hit the wall. Bellatrix sank to the floor, moaning, with a bleeding, and probably broken, nose.

After perhaps five or ten minutes, the curses stopped firing, and the smoke began to clear. When it was gone, there was no sign of the remaining dark wizards at all. Some of the gunslingers advanced and examined the place the Death Eaters had positioned themselves. There was no sign of them.

"Nothing," one of the women growled, holstering her gun in frustration.

"They must have fled when they realized that they were outmatched," another suggested.

"Cowards," a red-head growled.

The man nodded in agreement. "That they are; that they are." He walked back to Harry and the other students. "Good moves," he said to Harry and Neville. Perhaps it was unreasonable to feel satisfaction at a dangerous stranger's compliments, but Harry smiled nonetheless.

"Who are you?" Hermione asked, suddenly. "How did you get here? Why did you help us?"

The gunslingers looked at each other, evidently unsure how to answer the question. One of the blondes, however, smiled at them. "We are. . ." she started, but, just then, the doors burst open and people rushed into the Hall. The gunslingers automatically resumed their defensive stances. Harry and Hermione raised their wands, while the others returned to their place behind the shelves. When they peaked out, however, they realized they had nothing to fear. Even the gunslingers stood down upon realizing who the new intruders were.

It was some of the Order's best and most dangerous: Alistor "Mad-Eye" Moody, Kingsly Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, and-

_"Sirius!"_ Harry shouted, relieved to see his godfather alive.

"Harry," the older wizard answered, "are you all right? What happened here?"

"And who are these guys?" Moody asked, aiming his wand at the gunslingers.

"We are . . . friends," their leader answered. Harry looked at him. All of the strange, otherworldly warriors had been visibly affected by the arrival of the Order, but the man seemed to have been the most. It was like looking at a wolf turn into a baby lamb, one just learning to walk.

The older members of the Order looked shocked, too, Lupin and Sirius in particular. "Who are you?" Sirius asked. "Why do you sound so much like James Potter?"

The gunslinger smiled at the Marauder and reached for his hat. The women followed his example. "I'm a friend. I want to help you all, and I think you might be able to help me and my own, too." Then, he and his companions removed their hats.

"I am Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily."


End file.
